This was my father's house and I knew where the stones didn't fit, where hedges concealed narrow paths the guards never bothered with. I knew the blind spots created by an old apple tree and a wooden door.
I moved when the perimeter guard turned the corner, counting his steps the way I had as a child – one, two, three, then slipping forward while his back was turned. I stayed low near the rose trellis, then cut across the gravel path, wincing at the sound but not stopping.
The gate near the eastern wall had a latch that stuck. Everyone complained about it yet no one fixed it. I lifted it but felt the resistance, then eased myself through sideways, pulling it shut behind me.
I'd done this countless times before, forced to attend one of Nelly's parties just to prove my loyalty, or
